Author's Note at the bottom.

Prologue:

Sometimes Jaune Arc had to wonder if running away from home with only a couple hundred lien, the clothes on his back and his late grandfather's weapon was a bad idea.

"Rawr!"

Like 'being chased by a vicious Beowolf' levels of bad idea.

The blonde had cursed his luck when he had gotten lost within the Sherwood Forest after barely leaving the small hamlet of Nibelheim.

With nothing more than the previously mentioned items, and a vague sense of direction of where Pulse was, Jaune traversed courageously towards an adventurous future with the dream of becoming a great Huntsman that would make his forefathers proud!

...

Or at least that was how it was supposed to go in his mind. Jaune's fantasy was quickly shattered once he ended up encountering a Beowolf as it was prowling the forest for prey. Not even three hours into his journey and he had already gotten lost and encountered a Grimm. Curse his bad luck.

Despite running as fast as he could, the young blonde's legs just weren't a match for the wolf-like Grimm. Once he was too winded, Jaune turned his body and lifted his shield at the precise moment for it to be slammed against the Beowolf's paw, the resulting force sending the scraggly teen flying through the forest and crashing into a large oak tree.

"Damn it... I'm gonna die!"

The young Arc wasn't, by any means, a pessimist; but being a regular teen with no Huntsman experience (nor combat experience for that matter), the result was obvious.

"I don't wanna die here!"

And yet, despite all odds, the weak unassuming teen refused to simply lie down and accept his fate. Even in the face of apparent death, Jaune stood upon his trembling legs and held up his grandfather's sword and shield in defiance; both artifacts glimmering under the rays of the Sun and looking radiant despite their noticeable antiquity.

The Beowolf, believing to have cornered its prey, prowled slowly towards Jaune. It bared its razor-sharp fangs at him, growling all the while. Never had Jaune seen a Grimm's mask so up close before other than in depictions of them in drawings; the beast being, at most, three meters away.

Not daring to make a sound, the young Arc gulped as silently as he could without breaking eye-contact with the canine-like creature; fearing for the worse if he did. Yet Jaune couldn't stare without blinking forever.

The instant the blond did so the Grimm had finally leapt towards him, covering half the distance in less than a second, claws bared and ready to maul.

Jaune released a strangled scream as he watched the beast close in on him; wanting to close his eyes — to hide from the incoming horror of his own death — yet finding himself unwilling to. The young teen resigned himself to his fate.

And within the next microsecond something changed.

A beat passed. Then two. And Jaune finally realized that the strike from the Beowolf never came.

Blinking a few times in confusion, the blonde let himself untense, dropping onto the grass and looking around aimlessly if someone had come to save him. It was then when he realized the colors of his surroundings had drained and became a mix of shades.

"W-what's going on?" Even himself, Jaune noticed in surprise.

The Blonde's hoodie was still black, but the orange aspect was replaced by some shade of light-grey (Pumpkin Pete himself was still the same). Everything seemed to have come to a pause, as if time itself had stopped and so did the wind, he noted. Even the leaves stopped rattling.

The Grimm itself was suspended with its front barely reaching mid arc in the air.

"What in the world is going on here?" Jaune whispered in disbelief as he hesitantly stood up. And as if in response to his open question, someone answered. Or rather something.

"Greetings, my new wielder, it is a pleasure to meet you!"

Startled by the new voice, the young man turned every which way again to find the speaker.

"In your hand! It is I, your sword, the mighty Crocea Mors!" the voice spoke once more.

Looking at the blade he was holding onto with peeled eyes, Jaune noted that nothing seemed to have visibly changed about it, but despite this he searched his surroundings for any other source from which the voice could be coming from. After half a minute Jaune realized he had yet to introduce himself.

"H... Hey there. I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc."

"I see! Another from the house of Arc! A fine development. It has been a while since I have been wielded. Of whose lineage do you descend from, young Jaune?"

By this point the young blonde felt silly talking to a sword, perhaps wondering if he was being pranked by someone, yet ultimately decided to follow along if only to receive some explanation about what was going on.

"My dad is Bert and my mom is Liliane Arc. It was my great-great grandfather, Julius, who fought in the Great War with you... I believe."

"Hmm. I don't recognize either. Great-great grandfather, you say? Who is your great grandfather? Is it Clovis or Pepin?"

"Err... Pepin. Though it was uncle Clovis who handed you to him."

"Yes, I see now..." Crocea Mors, or at least who Jaune was to believe is Crocea Mors, seemed to have been lost in thought. As if trying to solve a puzzle and now having all the pieces. "Very well! I believe I now have somewhat a grasp of the situation!"

Still quite confused, and a bit impatient, Jaune asked, "Sorry, but what are you talking about?"

"You see, Jaune, I am the sword that has served your family line for generations! I have been passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, and everything in between. I like to personally keep track of the lineage of the wielders I have passed through."

Feeling the sudden weight of those words, and the sheer history of his blade, Jaune couldn't let go of the guilt that festered within his heart of knowing just how Crocea Mors had fallen into his possession. So, with a deep inhale of breath, he spoke.

"Listen, I have to confess that-"

"I assume..." The sword interrupted softly, "That you may not have acquired me through traditional means from your parents. Regardless, you are an Arc and I have been given the purpose of serving your family." The sword spoke with a tone of finality.

"How can you...?" Jaune paused hesitantly. "How can you possibly know that? And how are you able to talk? Just... What are you?" Jaune inquired curiously.

Crocea Mors didn't answer immediately, but there was vibration that Jaune felt came from its handle, along with a light humming.

"I can't answer your questions right now — as you are currently in a precarious situation — but I promise to answer your questions at a later time. What I can say is that I am your faithful sword with a lot of magical power! One of which allows me to do what you see now."

Jaune once more looked ahead (did the Beowolf just get closer?), "The power to stop time?" Jaune asked in amazement. His eyes twinkled with excitement.

Crocea chuckled (How does a sword chuckle?), "No, young Jaune. It's not 'stopped time' but 'hyper perception'. Things didn't stop moving at all, it's simply the speed at which you're perceiving them to be moving that has changed."

Suddenly, the wonder wore off just a tiny little bit.

"Then why am I able to move so easily?" The young man couldn't help but ask.

"It's the adrenaline. Believe me, once it wears off, you'll be paying the price of using this power. Just because you can move during Hyper Perception doesn't mean you should." the sword spoke sagely. "Now then, you are still in danger. There will be time for questions later; your top priority is to slay the Beowolf."

There was slight pause in the teen's response.

"Slay it? Can't I just... You know, run away?" Jaune asked desperately.

"You dream of being a Huntsman, do you not? If you run away here then it will only serve to prove that you are unfit to be one. So, make a stand now or return home and myself to your parents." his sword spoke gravely.

"I do want to become a Huntsman!" Jaune retorted heatedly, "But this thing smacked me around so easily. It was just about to kill me a few minutes ago! I'm not strong enough to beat it..."

"If it's a matter of strength then allow me to guide you. But if it's a matter of valor then walk away now. Remnant does not need a Huntsman that will run away when danger presents itself."

The ultimatum given, Jaune was left to decide. Would he walk away and return home alive but dishonored or would he risk his life to prove himself a warrior like his forefathers.

He was scared. Definitely. But Jaune was more scared of going back home. Of going back to being the wimpy, klutzy, loser Jaune-Arc. He wanted to be more; more than just a dorky kid with his head in the clouds. Jaune wanted to be someone people could look up to and gain hope. He wanted to be a hero, greater than any other.

Hardening his will, Jaune tightened his hold on Crocea Mors, "Alright. I'll slay the Beowolf." Although he spoke words of certainty, the hint of fear never quite left his voice.

Jaune felt his sword vibrate with anticipation, "Very well. My power will run out within 20 seconds, so pay close attention. The Beowolf will continue its motion, so you must take advantage of that. Get under it and slice its belly with one full swing; simple enough! If you fail...well, we'll cross that bridge once we get there."

Mentally preparing himself and his position; Crocea began to count down from 10 and Jaune felt his heart quicken with each passing second.

"... 2 ... 1."

"Rawr!"

The Beowolf finally continued its motion, but with Jaune's swift movement its journey midflight ended as Crocea sliced the Grimm vertically. The event was so fast that the Beowolf only managed to release a gurgle of pain before touching the ground and began dissolving.

Jaune released a breath he didn't know he was holding before dropping once more, like a sack of potatoes.

"Magnificent!" Shouted Crocea, "You show promise, young Master!" Jaune scratched his head in embarrassment and was about to reply with a witty remark before he suddenly felt sluggish.

"Crocea, what's wrong with me?!" the blonde asked with panic before feeling so heavy that he couldn't raise his head nor arm from the ground.

"Ah, that would be a side effect from my power. You're fortunate to not have moved much from within the world of Slowed Perception. Any more movement and you would have felt even worse."

"Even worse?" Jaune paused before processing everything said, "Wait, side effect?!"

"Yes, Jaune. It's a side effect you will keep receiving until you have fully mastered Hyper Perception. And that won't happen until you gain use of your Aura and are able to practice it."

"My...Owraw?"

"Aura. Yes, it is the energy that all Huntsmen and Huntresses use. It's their soul force given form. Anyone that aspires to be a Huntsman or Huntress must have their Aura unlocked."

"Can you unlock my Aura, Crocea?" Jaune inquired hopefully.

"...No. For that only another human can do so, as it requires physical contact between the unlocked and the locked." The Arc Blade paused momentarily, "I do not know of all the details. I am only a sword after all and, while vast, my knowledge is still limited. All I know is that only someone who has their Aura unlocked can help you unlock your own."

"Thanks anyways, Crocea." and Jaune meant it sincerely.

"Worry not, young Jaune!" Crocea's peppy tone returned full force. "As of this moment I am your weapon and your fate is mine own. As long as you wield me and your heart is true, I will serve you to the best of my abilities, my Master!"

Jaune smiled in gratitude and, feeling energized by his swords chipper attitude, mustered up his strength and stood up to sheath his.

With renewed vigor, the young Arc set off once more towards Pulse.

Jaune would later embarrassedly admit he got lost two more times after that.

Hello, there! Thank you for reading the prologue to my first RWBY fanfic. Now, there's not much to say in this prologue, but I have many ideas I'd like to try in this story. This story is obviously another universe, I haven't decided just how divergent from the plot it will be, as I'm still hashing out details. Chapter one will be published later this week, if not next and will be somewhat longer.

Once again, thank you for reading and please leave a review!

-IH